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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293594">3 Paintings from Pining</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatfisH_0FisH/pseuds/KatfisH_0FisH'>KatfisH_0FisH</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sun-Owl's Energy and Expressionless-san's Art [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Artist Akaashi Keiji, Artist/Pianist AU, Eating Together, HOLY MOLY THE FLUFF METERS ARE EXPLODING, M/M, Mentioned Kozume Kenma, Pianist Bokuto Koutarou, Piano Concert, Rain, at least in my eyes, i don't want to spoil anything through tags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:28:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,661</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatfisH_0FisH/pseuds/KatfisH_0FisH</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi's world is being filled with energy and color. His paintings go from bland and 'meh' to, as far as he believes, stunning and filled with life. </p><p>What's the source for this sudden change though?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sun-Owl's Energy and Expressionless-san's Art [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>3 Paintings from Pining</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hope you enjoy reading this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“AGAASHEEEEE!”</p><p>He knows Bokuto calling out his name like that, in public no less, <em>should</em> be embarrassing. He knows he should dislike such a thing, but there’s just something about Bokuto that only makes him pine after him more every time he sees him. </p><p>Bokuto will bring death to him. </p><p>Ever since he listened to Bokuto play the piano, his world suddenly burst with color and energy. If Bokuto is the death of him, then the emotions and the sudden vibrancy is the time where his “life flashes before his eyes.” At first, it was terrifying. His emotions were much more intense and extreme. He never was the type of person to openly express their emotions with it plastered on his face. Rather, he could be flying sky in joy internally yet keep his resting expressionless face on. Many people told him to “liven up”, but he was “livened up.” It just didn’t show on his face. </p><p>He now finds himself smiling at almost everything Bokuto does. Even the unusually weird stuff.</p><p>Kenma says he’s whipped hopeless. </p><p>“Hello, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“Hey hey hey! Are you free this Saturday?” Bokuto slings his arm over Akaashi’s shoulder. He barely manages to hold back the sudden shiver. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, he looks at the sun-owl man. “Yes. I am.”</p><p>Bokuto flashes his blinding smile. “Great! I’ve got a solo piano concert that day. Could you come?” A note with a location and time dangles in front of him.</p><p>Akaashi smiles at that. He grabs the note, “Yeah, definitely. Thanks, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto seems content with that. “Ok then, I’ll see you then! I’ve got to go, bye Akaashi!”</p><p>“Bye.”</p><p>He feels like a high school girl in love. Smiling, he pockets the ticket and heads home, brain teeming with ideas for another painting. </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~}:&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>            Stepping back, Akaashi breathes in the sight of his painting. He’s surprising himself with the life and energy in each new painting he makes. In just this week, he’s painted three complete works, all so lively and not too much at the same time. And when he places them side by side next to the ones he’s painted in the past…</p><p>            The differences are clear cut. Black and white. It’s not like the ones he’s painted before have depressing themes to them, it’s just they feel so empty. So meaningless. Even the beautiful sunset he painted two years ago had nothing on the three paintings from this week. </p><p>            The first painting was simple. A singular, grey and black coated great horned owl was perched on a branch. Its eyes were set on the sky, focused and resolute. There was a goal worth reaching, worth getting. Its golden eyes shone so brightly with resolve. He’s impressed with himself to say the least. </p><p>            The second painting has the figure of a jumping man. One arm stretches above his head, guiding him to the target. His back arches as he prepares to swing forward. He will not falter or hesitate to take that swing. However, the only thing missing is the man’s face. No matter, he’s certain there would be a smile anyways. </p><p>            The third painting looks like someone he knows well. The facial features are mostly covered in an ethereal light, but from what he could tell, this man loves to smile. He wonders where all these ideas are coming from. </p><p>            With a content hum, Akaashi yawns and heads off to sleep, leaving the three paintings to finish drying overnight. </p><p> ~~~~~~~~~~~}:&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>The open air is a relieving experience. A gentle breeze blows by once in a while, ruffling through his hair. Looking around, he takes notice of the set up for the concert. A singular, raised platform sits in the middle of the park. A few steps lead up to the platform where an elegant grand piano stands with its lid propped up. All around him, people were settling down onto the grass, chattering away with friends, family, and loved ones. Seems like Bokuto is quite the popular pianist indeed.</p><p>Busying himself with his phone, his attention is drawn back to the platform when the people around him begin clapping. He smiles when he sees Bokuto strutting onto the stage with a microphone in his hand.</p><p>“Good afternoon everyone! How’s everyone’s day going so far?” Bokuto asks. The crowd chuckles and numerous versions of “good” are heard. He swears someone says, “better than yours!”</p><p>Seemingly relishing in the crowd’s enthusiasm, Bokuto, for the next twenty minutes, has a conversation with the entire audience, talking about the latest soccer matches to weird moments he’s been in. The crowd soak his stories up like a sponge. Some are awkward moments, others are hilarious, and some are extremely touching. He can’t help by laugh along with the audience when Bokuto tells his story about the time he played a series of pranks and managed to persuade everyone that it was all done by their homeroom teacher. “The teacher let us have school off for the rest of the day. Must’ve given him quite the scare for returning all those ‘pranks’.” Bokuto says.</p><p>When all stories are told and the crowd calms down from their laughter, Bokuto makes his way over to the grand piano, resting his fingers across the keys. Right before he starts, Bokuto scans over the crowd, seemingly looking for someone. When he locks eyes with Akaashi, he smiles brightly before turning back to the piano to play the most energetic yet meaningful songs Akaashi has ever heard of.</p><p>The concert’s end came much too quickly. One moment he is living the dream, even humming along to the melody, and the next? People are standing up and making their way out of the park. Standing up, he begins to walk out when a lanky arm wraps around his shoulder. Turning around, he smiles at the sun-owl man. “I loved it Bokuto-san. Thank you for inviting me here.”</p><p>“Oh really? Thanks Akaashi!”</p><p>“No problem.”</p><p>A few staggering seconds of silence pass by before Bokuto perks up all of a sudden. His hair seems to stand up higher as well. <em>Cute. </em></p><p>“Hey, do you want to get some dinner too? I’d like to hang out with you a little more, if that’s ok. I mean, you don’t have to agree or anything, I just want to put that out there, since, you know, we haven’t been hanging out a lot recently, and—”</p><p>Bokuto continues to blabber while rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, avoiding Akaashi’s eye. After a few moments more, Akaashi places a firm hand on his shoulder and cuts him off. “Yes, I’d like dinner.”</p><p>Bokuto brightens up at that and dashes off, throwing a “Just let me get my stuff!” over his shoulder. Akaashi believes Bokuto doesn’t need to tell him that. He’d wait anyways.</p><p>Together, the two men leave the park walking side by side with their shoulders brushing occasionally. If they do notice, they don’t say anything as they fall into easy conversation. Well, it’s mostly Bokuto talking, but Akaashi will jump in occasionally to make his own comments or even his own stories. He doesn’t have many, but Bokuto fills in those spaces with enthusiasm.</p><p>They’re lost in conversation indeed. Hours pass. They only stop when the pounding of rain is heard. Heavy rain.  </p><p>“I think we should go Bokuto-san. My place isn’t too far from here. We don’t know when it’ll let up.” Akaashi says.</p><p>Bokuto hums in thought. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”</p><p>“You won’t Bokuto-san. I like hearing you talk.”</p><p>“Okay then! Let’s see where Mr. Akaashi dwells so humbly in!"</p><p>“Sure sure. Let’s go.”</p><p> ~~~~~~~~~~~}:&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Maybe running in the rain was a bad idea.</p><p>Just maybe.</p><p>And maybe seeing Bokuto with soaked hair pressed against his face was doing weird things with his stomach.</p><p>Just maybe.</p><p>Shaking off the rising feelings, he throws a towel in Bokuto’s direction. “Go take a shower first. I’ll make some tea.”</p><p>“Alright. Thanks Akaashi!” Bokuto says and dashes down the hall.</p><p>Strolling into the kitchen, Akaashi begins to boil some water. After a few minutes, he pours it out into two cups, places tea bags inside, and plops down at the kitchen counter with a sigh. Feelings are hard.</p><p>He must have fallen asleep. Next the he knows, Bokuto is gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey Akaashi, go shower. You’ll get a cold.”</p><p>He hums in response and heads over to the bathroom.</p><p>A quick shower later, Akaashi steps of the bathroom only to be face to face with a Bokuto. Their nose briefly brush before he’s scurrying backwards. “Bokuto-san, is there something you need?” Bokuto doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs Akaashi’s wrist and drags him towards the living room. Stopping, he let’s go. He takes a breath. And another breath. And another. And another.</p><p>He takes many breaths before he whips around to face Akaashi while pointing to a painting propped up against the wall.</p><p>“Is that me?”</p><p>Akaashi follows Bokuto’s finger. The third painting. Looking closer, he tries to figure out what Bokuto means. <em>Oh—</em></p><p>He unconsciously drew Bokuto.</p><p>Gulping, he tries to respond. “Um, uh, that, uh—”</p><p>His heart is thrumming loud in his ears.</p><p>“Uh…”</p><p>He feels heat rising up his neck. Sooner or later, he knows, it would be showing up on his face. Turning away to hide it, he manages to choke out, “yeah.”</p><p>Bokuto is silent. Akaashi doesn’t like that.</p><p>Akaashi tries again. “I like you Bokuto-san. I think I unconsciously drew you. Sorry if you’re uncomfortable.”</p><p>Bokuto is still silent.</p><p>When he does speak, his voice is unnaturally soft and caring. “Akaashi, look at me. I like you too.  I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you…” <em>But?</em></p><p>“Dang it! You and your cuteness beat me to it!”</p><p><em>Huh?</em> Looking up, he sees a tomato Bokuto.</p><p>“But…”</p><p>
  <em>But?</em>
</p><p>“I’ll still get to say this first: will you go out with me?”</p><p>How could he say no?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Honestly, for writing fluff, I'm pretty impressed with myself. I don't tend to "fluff" well.<br/>Hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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